


Old Red

by AcesOfSpade



Series: The Escapists [1]
Category: Supernatural, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Alternate Universe - Prison, Bisexual Charles, Bisexual Dean, Bisexual Erik, Gay Castiel, Homophobia, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Prison setting, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcesOfSpade/pseuds/AcesOfSpade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Society is a bitch, to say it in few words. These four mutants know that face-on. </p><p>Society prosecutes mutants and gays, but gay mutants are prosecuted specially. They are send to an underground Hell-hole, known simply as 'Red'. </p><p>Our main characters, named Seriphim, Satan, Magneto, and Professor X, must try and save themselves from the crippling horror that is Red, before something drastic happens to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Red

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the crossover no one wanted! I didn't even mean to make it a crossover, or make it dark, but, it all happened. I'm actually quite proud of my start, so hey, have at 'er.

Little stolen glances and held hands under tables is how they evaded suspicion. There was no PDA, for fear of backlash. From the public, from their loved ones, from their friends. It wasn't exactly the most socially acceptable relationship. After all, being mutants was one barrel of worms, but being _gay_ mutants was another entirely.

Castiel di Angelo was a mutant with the physiology of an Angel. He had long, dark black wings; the ability to use 'Angelic Grace', which for him was just magic; and a rapid healing faster, much faster than Wolverine's.

Dean Winchester was the opposite. He had the mutation of demon physiology. His beautiful green eyes could become black voids of nothingness on will; he had a wide variety of demonic abilities, such as pyrokinesis, telekinesis, teleportation, and the ability to sell souls; he had the same rapid healing as Castiel; and, he had a tail. It was long and black, spiked at the end like an arrow head.

The two had met by chance. It was a mutant rights rally in Kansas. Dean was from Lawrence, Castiel all the way from Pontiac, Illinois. They were protesting for their own right to be treated like people. They connected instantly after Dean accidentally spilled coffee on the shorter man. Castiel had apologized for running into him and offered to buy him another coffee. One coffee had turned into three donuts, which turned into a handful of beers a week later.

It took a month for them to get together. They spent quite a bit of time together, sparing glances and brushing hands. However, none of this was for the public eye. Mutants were treated horribly in society, more horribly than gay people. However, gay mutants were treated the worst.  They were occasionally put to death by humans for being 'inhuman, disgusting freaks of nature on par with the Devil'. Dean and Castiel couldn't help but laugh at that. An Angel and a demon, as inhuman as the Devil himself. Sure, Castiel's eldest brother was named Lucifer, but he wasn't inhuman.

The pair adapted to their behind-closed-doors relationship pretty quickly. All exchanges of endearment, touch, and 'I love you' were done behind doors, in secret where no one would see or hear. It had benefits, too. They could say exactly what was on their mind about the man they loved, and no one else would hear but the one they loved.

At the one-year mark of their relationship, everything changed. Dean's father, John Winchester, had been away for most of his life, leaving his boys in the care of their sweet, nurturing mother Mary. He finally came back to Lawrence, 29 years after he left. He stormed back into Dean's life, tossing the 33 year old into a loop.

Dean was four when John left. He had never wanted his children to end up mutants, but here he was, his four year old son had a tail and he was setting things on fire. He had up and left, on Mary's insistence, to keep the child out of harm's way.

John had always been a mutantphobe. A mutant by the name of 'Sebastian Shaw' had killed his father in 1956. It was not a happy day for John, nor his mother Millie. From that day onward, John Winchester never liked mutants. He would rally against their rights, labelling them as savage killers, despite their individual natures.

John was also homophobic. He was raised in the 1950s and '60s. He was always taught that being homosexual was wrong, a sin, and was punishable by death. He let those values sink much to far into his head, and he began rallying against homosexual rights as much as he did against mutant rights.

Now, John was back. He had forced himself into Dean's home for a place to stay, never asking his son. Everyone around them knew it was because John knew Dean was a mutant and wanted to torment him and beat the living shit out of him like he did any other mutant. Just because this one was his didn't mean he would magically change his ways.

Dean and Castiel were living together at this point, meaning they would have to be extremely careful how they acted around the house now. No more wandering the house in boxers and cuddling in random places, trading lazy 'I love you's while half-asleep. Now, it was stay on alert, don't do anything gay, and don't let John know Castiel was a mutant.

As the weeks went by, it started to get harder and harder. It had gotten to the point that, whenever John left the house, there was an immediate exchange of endearment and 'I love you's the minute he was out of audible range.

John had his suspicions about his son and his 'roommate'. They seemed to always stand much too close to each other,  and were always stealing lustful, longing looks. He was always worked into a blind rage when any of this happened. He was living with  _queers_ , he knew it. He also had suspicions about Castiel's supposed humanity. He'd seen the man nearly cut his finger off while cooking, and six minutes later, it was completely fine, no scars even. Nothing had that sort of supernatural regenerative capability unless it wasn't human.  To say John was pissed was an understatement.

At the three month mark, John had had enough. He declared a 'house meeting' in the living room to tell then  _exactly_ how he felt.

The two mutants reluctantly sat on opposites sides of the couch as to not sit too close to each other. They stared at John in fear, not knowing what he was going to do.

John's blue eyes were alight with anger. He wasn't one to shy away from telling people just how he felt about them. He son was no exclusion.

Clearing his throat, John tried not to let his anger and rage fuel his voice and make him yell.

“It has come to my attention I am living with  _queers_ ,” he began, spitting the word 'queers' like it was a swear word, “and that is not something I approve of at all. Nor do I approve of mutants, which is what you two pansies are.” He was trying not to snarl at this point.

Dean could feel the black void creeping into his eyes, but he fought it back.  _He wouldn't fight John unless provoked_ he reminded himself.

John continued. “I have decided to take evasive actions to protect myself.” he told them, a hiss-like quality to his voice. A knock came at the door just as John had finished his sentence. He stood and went to answer the knock. Two police officers came in, handcuffs hanging threateningly from their belts.

“Goodbye.” was John's parting statement as the police approached the mutant couple. They didn't fight it, they just let it happen. They didn't want to show John they were angry or scared. He would like that too much.

The police officers led the two out to their car and roughly shoved them into the backseat, hands still cuffed behind their backs, causing pain. Dean's tail was crushed underneath him, causing him pain. Of course, the cops wouldn't care. He was just another mutant. Oh, and a gay one at that. They wouldn't listen to him if he told them he was bi. They would still label him as gay and send him elsewhere.

The ride was long and silent. Castiel knew where they were being sent; his younger sister had also been sent there for being a mutant with light control. However, they would be put underground, in the 'special facility' for gays.

Once they reached the long driveway, they two were dragged out of the cars, manhandled up to the door, and shoved into the care of two of the 'doctors'. They roughly seized the pair, dragging them down the three flights of stairs to the gay section.

It was a dark, horrible place. The walls looked almost like mud being held back by flimsy fencing. The ceiling dripped water onto their heads, meaning the ceilings were thin, with water pipes running through them. The lights were hanging on thin wires, just bulbs swinging on the breeze. They were flickering in and out of power, evidently dying. Dean figured that the bulbs were changed maybe once a month, maybe more.

The two were shoved into a small cells with one other person. He was sitting in the corner, hands folded in his lap. As they took him in, their cuffs were released and the door was closed.

The couple sat down across from the man. He had a stern, but pleasant look to him. Very strong features, blonde, almost dirty blonde, hair, and piercing blue/green eyes. They were wondering his name, but they were too afraid to ask.

Finally, the man looked up. “You better be useful.” he said simply, voice dark and somber. “If you aren't useful, you get the 'special cell'.” He had an accent, German possibly.

Dean and Castiel glanced between each other and cringed. Hopefully, they were seen as useful.

“You may call me 'Magneto'.” the man said. “I do not share my real name with fresh meat.”

“Well, I'm Satan.” Dean said, deciding on a codename based on his powers.

“And I am Seriphim.” Castiel added. He had already come up with a codename, as he had hoped to one day be a superhero like his childhood friend, Charles. However, Charles had dropped of the radar quite early in his hero career. Had he been taken?

“Satan and Seriphim?” Magneto almost chuckled. “An Angel and a Demon, I presume?” he asked. The pair nodded. Castiel let out his wings momentarily, and Dean flicked his tail, which was clearly broken, out from behind him.

That caused Magneto to nod in approval. “Any other powers?” he enquired.

“Telekinesis, pyrokinesis, teleportation, I can make deals involving souls, black eyes,  the tail obviously, and the ability to heal myself at a rate way faster than my friend James.” Dean listed off.

“I have a magical capability that allows me to do virtually anything with it, as well as the same healing factor as De-Satan.” Castiel said, nearly calling Dean by his real name.

“Strong mutants you two are.” Magneto commented.

“What do you do?” Dean asked. “Though, I do have a decent guess.”

“Just as the name states, I have metalikiesis. I can manipulate and control magnetism, as well as lightly dabble in electromagnetism.” Magneto informed them.

Just as the conversation was about to hit its climax, a man with scraggly, messy brown hair was shoved into the cell. He fell to the ground, face hidden by his hair. Almost immediately, Magneto was by his side, making sure he was alright and wasn't hurt.

Dean and Castiel exchanged a look that clearly said 'definitely a couple'. It was glaringly obvious. The care Magneto had for the man, when he had been stoic only moments before; the way he softly spoke and touched the man; and the look in his eyes. It was that look you save only for the person you love, and no one else.

Once Magneto was sure his partner was alright, he turned to Dean and Castiel. “Satan, Seriphim, meet Professor X.” he said, gesturing to the man. 'Professor X' looked up at the two new prisoners, causing both he and Castiel to let in a sharp intake of breath.

“Charles?” Castiel muttered just as Professor X had muttered “Castiel?”

Magneto and Dean exchanged a curious, confused look. Did Castiel and Professor X know each other? It was evident they knew each others names at least.

“It has been quite a while, Charles.” Castiel commented.

“Was has it been now? 13 years?” Charles asked. He had a thick British accent, with almost little hints of Scottish peaking through.

“Around that. I apologize, old friend.” Castiel sighed. Something in Magneto tensed at the nickname 'old friend'. That was a term of endearment between he and Charles. Hearing someone else call him that was... odd.

“I have been.... busy.” Charles said. “I have been in here for 6 years.”

Castiel frowned. “That is awful, Charles.”

“I was useful. They wished to keep me alive. You know of my power, yes?” Charles sighed.

“Telepathy, correct?” Castiel remembered.

Charles nodded. “I am able to find other mutants via my power, and they use me to find new prisoners.” he muttered. He hated that he was being used like this. He felt violated and guilty.

Castiel, and even Dean, let out sharp exhales. He was being used like that? It was horrible.

Charles turned to Magneto. “Erik, old friend,” he muttered, “how are you fairing?”

_So his name is Erik?_ Dean wondered.  _Definitely a German_ he concluded.

Erik, as he will now be referred to, looked up at Charles, their eyes locking.  Erik took a deep breath, which he exhaled slowly. “You know how I am fairing, old friend.” he said quietly. He was being used to build new wings and floors of the prison, being forced to build the metal framework and such.  It reminded him of his childhood, which reflected badly on his mental state.  _PTSD_ , the psychologist had called it. He still refused to believe it.

Charles placed a hand on Erik's shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “It will be alright, Erik.” he said softly, voice failing at reassurance. He had lost all hope in the last six years, but he didn't want Erik to.

Charles turned to Dean. “Hello. I have not made your acquaintance.” he said.

“Dean.” the blonde informed him. He figured since everybody elses name was out there, he would share his too.

“ Hello, Dean.” Charles said, a broken, small smile on his face. “I take you are Castiel's partner?” he asked, which made Dean nod.

“They usually keep the couples together to cause them emotional pain seeing their partner in pain.” Charles added. A ghost of pain flickered across his blue eyes. He ducked his head and sighed, his shoulders slumping. Erik placed a hand between his shoulderblades, rubbing in soft circles. If anyone had PTSD, it was Charles. He had seen more horrors and had more pain inflicted on him than anyone else Erik knew. He had to constantly wake Charles up from nightmares and calm him down during panic attacks.

Dean and Castiel turned to each other in fear. Were they going to be used like that? They were powerful, but would they be useful? They wanted, slightly, to be useful so they didn't die, but they didn't want to be used like Charles and Erik.

Charles decided he'd had enough of talking. He slipped into Dean's mind undetectably, wanted to know who turned the couple in. He recoiled and physically jerked back at what he saw.

“Your father turned you in?” he muttered, in a mix of horror and disgust.

Dean's guard immediately went up. “How did you know that?” he asked, voice full of anger and accusation. He didn't need people creeping into his head, especially not guys with hippie hair.

Charles looked up at him. “Excuse me for the intrusion. I do it with all new cellmates.” he said, voice hollow.

Dean immediately seized up. _All new cellmates?_ As in, there had been more before them? That thought was extremely disconcerting, especially considering they'd been here for six years or so.

Castiel noticed and placed a hand on his arm. If Dean was like this any longer, he would begin to hyperventilate. They didn't need that to happen in a mutant prison. It would end up getting Dean, and subsequently Castiel, killed. That eventuality was something Castiel would not deal with.

Exhaustion swept through the four inhabitants of the cell, and they fell into a sort of niche. Charles and Erik on the left side of the cell, cuddled as close as possible in the small space, and Dean and Castiel on the right in the same position.

 


End file.
